Mortal Athena
by Adelphus
Summary: Everyone else has their 'Carmen Origin' story, so here's mine. I am awesome at summaries.
1. Chapter 1 Darkening skies

Disclaimer: I don't own Carmen; she owns me.

Okay, so this is the first carmenfic I ever wrote, EVER, when I was sixteen, around 1997. It caused a civil war in the ancient Carmen fandom and disappeared into the night. I now repost it for posterity, and because everyone else has their 'Carmen Origin' story up, so me too.

***Mortal Athena****

Chpt. 1. Darkening Skies

June 15, 1985

The wind stung at her cheeks, making her feel cold on that warm June day. The red 57' Chevy was tearing down some desert highway, Carmen no longer cared which one it was. She had no destination, she had no past. The apocalypse of her life was now, the world turned upside down. Everything she ever knew, ever had, ever believed in was gone, pulled out from under her. The American dream.

Hah!

It had been so close, but now everything lay in ruins on the floor.

After a time the worn ex-Acme agent climbed out of the car she had been in for the past day. She had been driving since last evening, mindlessly, out into nowhere. At last her body's cry for sleep had made itself heard in her crowded mind and Carmen stopped at a run-down, one-star motel.

Sullenly she pulled the suitcase up the metal staircase and went into the dingy room. 'What was the point?' she asked herself.

She fell back on the lumpy bed to stare at the water stains on the ceiling. She glanced at her hand. The ring was still there, warm and golden. Carmen took it off and looked at it. There was only one thing left for her now. She took a set of wooden rosary beads from her tan trench coat pocket and slipped the ring onto it. She then went over to the beaten suitcase in the corner and opened it, searching around until she found what she was looking for, a little bottle of aspirin.

"Take two with water." Carmen read aloud through her tears and took out the entire contents of the bottle, seven pills, and swallowed them all.

"Not this time I'm afraid" She whispered softly as she laid back down on the bed. She fingered the crucifix and ring longingly as she waited for death to take her.

Soon it would all go away...

* * *

January 5,1983; Acme

"Oh really? Well then that's what we're going to have to do. Good bye." Carmen hung up the phone. Another day, another day. She surveyed the room of brick, watching over the others, of what remained of them. She was happy to be on a case that did not involve killers. If she could pick and choose, she would never deal with any of them, but that wasn't for her to decide.

'My family', Carmen thought contently. There was Sophia Marikalokorovski, Prof. Fortuno, Nigel Reeves, Irene Winters, and the late Nathan Whitney. They had been the elite detectives that had adopted a then 14 year-old Carmen into their ring. Carmen was 15 when Nathan died in front of her; shot in the heart, but she had been trained over time to accept these things, for that was the price of freedom.

Nathan had been 19.

Then there were the higher ups; her favorite being the wispy Amanda Willis, and her partner Suhara Same. And the 'chief'.

'My 'father'. The father of pandemonium itself.' She thought. The others insisted that the AI was the way of the future, but to Carmen he seemed more a hyper version of HAL9000. Still, he insisted she was his daughter and secretly it gave her a hint of comfort.

A tall man with wispy blond-brown hair and hazel eyes walked towards her.

"Nigel." Carmen said demurely, delighted to see him.

"Carmen." he said, mimicking her sultry tone as he put his arms around her. As a rule Carmen did not like to be touched, but she didn't care with Nigel.

They were on their way out when the computerized voice of the chief called out to her.

"Umm, Carmen, Nigel, I need to speak to you two alone for a moment?"

Carmen braced herself for what she believed to be the inevitable.

Another death in the force. Another funeral. Funeral after funeral Carmen had went to, man after man dying in the line of duty. How many had she lost? Could she count them on her hands? Carmen began to sink into herself.

"Carmen!"

"What? Oh, I'm so sorry, chief"

"We all are, Carmen, but there is nothing we could have done."

"No. I meant... Could you repeat what you just told Nigel?"

"Oh my. Umm Carmen. Sophia is...Umm..."

"Dead?"

"Yeah."

Again and again.

* * *

The funeral was small. Carmen kept back the tears, as always. It was easier now that she had Nigel beside her, holding her, easing the pain.

"She'll come back as something wonderful." Carmen said firmly as she pushed the pain into the corner of her heart. What was the use of crying? What did it get her? Nothing. Emotion was for the weak, not for her.

'Death comes to all of us and will come in good time, but until then I am an agent of the government, as was Sophia, and so be it that we die. One has to deal with it.'

Carmen looked indignantly at those crying.

'They blame their country as always. It is an easy scapegoat. They believe that she could have been saved but that they just didn't care enough to double check their timing. Ach! Don't they have any faith in this country?'

Nigel was staring at her and remembered she had just made a Buddhist reference.

"Come again, Carmen?"

Nigel was looking at her curiously.

"I'm a Buddhist" Carmen replied without tone, staring ahead.

"I always thought you where Christian, Carmen. You always celebrated Christmas."

"It is a lovely holiday."

She looked at her devout Anglican lover and added, "I have no troubles with Christianity, but they spoke of such a vengeful God at the orphanage that I never fully took it in. Suhara raised me after I came to Acme in the Zen practice and it's given me peace, so that is what I am."

Nigel left the conversation as it was.

"Terribly sad, isn't it?" asked Ronnie Goldberg as it was their turn to pay respects. Carmen didn't say a word. Sophia had been a quiet soul when she was alive; so shy with a soft smile. She had the essence of that now; her pale blond hair arranged gently around her cold face, the white pallor settling under Carmen's skin. Only half the casket open. The other half of her body had been shot to pieces.

She turned away, violently pushing the pain back even further, denying to herself that she had felt anything. Her face was a mask, as frozen as Sophia's, never to display any trace of the turmoil buried deeper than her conscious dared to go. She left the funeral early. There was work to be done and a country to protect.

* * *

"Carmen, does Buddhism... help you with these things?"

"In a way, yes."

"I love you, Carmen"

Carmen hesitated. 'Why must he move so fast? I don't especially like this romantic routine, but it wouldn't hurt to tell him what I feel, would it?'

"I love you too...Nigel?"

"Yes?"

They were sitting on the pea-green sofa in the main room at about one in the morning. All but a few bare bulbs were burning near the file cabinets and the Mr. Coffee. The old green and white linoleum floor was peeling and the plaster walls crumbling. No renovation work had been done for Acme since the Lipset days; the government not sparing any of its tax revenues even fix the clock in the far corner, which had told the time, 2:16 for as long as Carmen could remember. The room looked so lonely in the shadows cast by the bare bulbs, engulfing the two detectives and the crack in the far window made the room feel even colder.

Carmen involuntarily settled deeper into Nigel. In response he put his arm around her. It was the only comfort she knew.

"Sometimes I wonder if justice is worth this price, Nigel."

Nigel looked a little taken back.

"What's this? Carmen is questioning these wasted deaths at last? In all the years I've known you, Sandiego, never once have you questioned the law."

"I'm not questioning the law itself," Carmen replied sharply, "I've just never seen so many die as agents anywhere else in the world. The first was Nathan, then Sophia. Then there are the others. Do I have to name them? Of course I do, for who else will."

Nigel noticed a bitterness in Carmen's voice that was growing with every word.

"They never have them in the obituaries, Nigel. You die here and then you no longer exist. Quiet funeral. Then forgotten. For what? The drug lords we chase get acquitted by using lawyers that they buy with the drug money they take out of the corpses they sit upon!"

Carmen was now screaming at the night, for the first time breaking free of the coldness of duty, for an instant becoming human.

But only for an instant.

Nigel was completely taken off guard and with such a look upon his face that Carmen could only stare back at him.

The fortress was cracking, though neither of them knew it yet...


	2. Chapter 2  Life as she knew it

Mortal Athena

Chpt. 2. Life as She Knew it.

December 12, 1984. San Francisco

* * *

"Ach! Christmas shopping!" Carmen exclaimed, then sighed.

"Oh come now, Carmen. It's not that bad." Nigel piped in behind her.

"It almost never snows in San Francisco. Just once I'd like to see it snow."

"Since when do you care about snow?" asked Jay, Nigel's younger brother. He knew Carmen rather well and was not accustomed to hearing her complain about anything. He had liked her enough in the beginning but her coldness had put him off, and the fact that she answered to all his complaints with 'Karma' had begun to grate on him. He thought back two Christmases ago...

* * *

December 09, 1982. San Francisco

"It never snows in San Francisco" Jay whined.

"Then perhaps snow in San Francisco was not meant to be." Carmen said, not even looking up from her files.

"Why do I have to live in San Francisco?" He continued.

"Because of your Karma."

"What the hell is Karma?"

"Jay! Seventh graders don't say hell." Nigel reprimanded from across the room.

"They bloody well do!"

"Well, Carmen, why don't you enlighten him with your religion?"

Carmen made a face as she massaged her forehead. She didn't like this reference to 'her religion'.

'He is never going to accept it, is he?'

"Karma is your destiny. It has already been planned for you."

"Then how can I change it" Jay asked

"You can't."

"So what is the point of living?"

"It is your Karma to live"

"Aw the Hell with that!"

"Jay!" Nigel was getting agitated

"If you can't control your own future you're a slave! I'm glad I'm not Buddhist!"

"_Jay_!" Nigel had reached his breaking point. "Buddhism is a perfectly good religion and if that is what Carmen wants to practice, then I say good for her!"

Carmen was near tears, but as always masked it. She had the nagging feeling that she was using the word wrong. Suhara had explained it so many times. Karma was more cause and effect, not predestination, but she wanted it to be. _Needed_ it to be. The relief the idea of cosmic fate gave her was so direly needed that she had unknowingly subverted the truth to provide it. Some dark corner in her mind chastised her but it went unnoticed as always as she got up to leave the Reeves' cozy Victorian house.

"If what I believe is so difficult for everyone here, perhaps I should leave."

And with that, she was gone.

"Now look what you did!" Nigel cried in exasperation.

"What I did? You're the one who hates her religion!"

"What! I certainly do-"

"Face it Nigel. You're a Protestant to the core. We both know you don't accept it and it shows through."

"Well neither do you."

"I'm not the one who _supposedly_ loves her."

At this Nigel stopped. 'Why _do_ I care so much? Don't I love her?'

* * *

"Doesn't he love me?" Carmen asked herself as she sped down Polk Ave. trying to leave it all behind. 'What if it is all true? What if I am a slave to my own beliefs? Oh course not! What difference does it make? Perhaps it is just that… It is not my fate to be...loved.'

* * *

December 12, 1984. San Francisco

Jay looked at her now and then at Nigel. He could tell the same memory was crossing his mind as well. Carmen seemed oblivious, but he knew that somehow she thought the same. However, the story had continued past what he had witnessed.

* * *

December 09, 1982. San Francisco

Carmen watched the sun fade over the bay. There were so many thoughts spinning in her head that she couldn't focus on any one of them, but the overall drone above them was 'Who cares for me?'

Self-pity had always disgusted Carmen and now she despised herself for feeling it.

'But let's face it', Carmen thought, her head in her hands, 'I was abandoned almost at birth. The nanny never liked me much, and nobody had ever thought to bring me into their homes. I was a '_spic'_.'

Carmen thought the last word with much hatred. 'That's what I was called behind my back when I first came to Acme. True, only one person ever called me that, but the rest most certainly must have thought it from time to time. The daughter of an illegal immigrant, most likely. 'Sandiego'. Hah! That's probably not even a real name. The only people that wanted me were government.'

She sighed, irritated with herself but the pain refused to let her be. This war had raged on and on in her heart since she had learned her mother hadn't wanted her, when she was three.

'My nanny was a cruel old witch!' Carmen thought spitefully, then went back to the ghosts in her head, not hearing the station-wagon pull up in the parking lot behind her. Out came a very concerned looking man with blond-brown hair, who, upon seeing the woman, started over to her.

"Carmen! Where did you go? Chief says you never returned!"

Carmen didn't hear him at first, for the hateful voices in her head were far too loud.

"Carmen! _Carmen_!"

She startled and turned to see who called.

"Nigel" Carmen said without enthusiasm

"Carmen, where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Right here." She replied with a hint of aggravation.

Nigel dropped beside her on the small beach and took hold of her hands.

"Carmen, oh Carmen, I've...I've been such a fool." he said softly. "Jay may be an immature little toad, but he was… right on something. I do love you, and if our beliefs are going to tear us apart, then...um.., I mean…"

He trailed off, then tried again. "Jesus is all about love, Carmen. Maybe if you took some of your religion and meshed it with mine, you might have something more satisfactory."

"What would be the purpose of love if I don't…if I can't perceive it?"

Nigel let a glorious smile cross his face and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I know you've had a hard life, but it won't be this way forever. Besides, you love me too, don't you?"

"I'm not doing a good job of it."

"Of course you are, of course you are."

"Yes?"

"Quite."

At this Carmen smiled and quoted from a musical Nigel had taken her to, 'Anything Goes'. "You know, that's how I know you are English, because you said "quite" instead of "yes" like any normal person would."

Nigel usually braced himself for this, but this time he welcomed the teasing and pulled her closer.

"Quite." He whispered in her ear. "It is all right to believe what you believe if that is what helps you to survive, but do promise me one thing." Nigel said with mock gravity.

Carmen eyed him with suspicion. "What?"

Nigel burst with another smile. "Never become a nun and shave all your hair off. That would be tragic!"

He buried his face in Carmen's thick, black, perfumed hair and inhaled deeply.

Carmen couldn't help but laugh, drawing him closer until she was practically in his lap. 'Perhaps I will give love a little bit more of a go.' she thought.

The two watched their love grow with every star to grace the evening sky, at the center of the universe.


	3. Chapter 3 American Dream

Mortal Athena

Chpt. 3. The American Dream

* * *

December 12, 1984 San Francisco

And so the memory of love reborn lingered in the minds of Carmen and Nigel but left Jay bewildered.

'Why the bloody hell were they looking at each other like that? Hadn't the memory involved Miss. Manners being a bastard to her? Maybe they're thinking of something else. Oh well. Bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard!' Jay thought contently. 'He can't correct me in my head'.

Carmen had been to an Anglican church with them a couple of times since then, and a change was noticeable. The two almost never fought about the government now. In fact, Nigel had given Carmen his prized set of wooden rosary beads that he had been given by their late and favorite grandmother, an Irish Roman-Catholic. This gift pretty much meant to Jay that Carmen was here for good and that he was going to have to get used to it. Not that that was such a problem anymore.

Carmen was not as cold as she used to be. In fact, she could be pretty fun at times.

And she was a babe.

Nigel had other things on his mind; such as how was he going to distract Carmen while he bought "_it_".

The mall bustled with activity of hundreds of people going to and fro, giant shopping bags in hand, off to unknown destinations. The neon signs screamed their wares and punk music blared from a record store, echoing of the low rumble of human activity. A sea of big hair and shoulder pads, bright colors, and skin-tight jeans. The smell of food court filled the air. This was the place to be.

In the eighties, malls were the centers of the universe.

This one had a carousel that Carmen liked particularly. The carousel! Nigel took Jay aside.

"Jay, I need a favor."

"You called me 'Jay' for once."

"Well?"

"What is it?"

"I've got get Carmen a.. uh...gift and I need you to distract her."

"How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?"

Nigel ignored the swear word, much to Jay's astonishment.

"Ask her if she wants to ride the carousel."

"Why would a twenty one-year-old secret agent with a gun want to ride a _carousel_?"

"Because it makes her sentimental. Please, Jay?"

"You want me to ride it too? What if Daphne comes by? I'd be mortified!"

"I'll give you five dollars."

"Ten."

"Seven."

"Fine, but you're getting coal for Christmas, you toad."

Nigel cuffed him playfully and walked quickly down the plaza.

Carmen had finished browsing the bookstore across the way and returned to the directory where Jay was eyeing two flirtatious women in skin-tight pants and stilettos. Their hair was incredibly large, as was one other feature that held the captive attention of a fourteen-year-old boy.

"Jay!"

"Wha...huh?"

Jay came back from neverland to see Carmen inches from his face.

"Where is Nigel?"

"Um, he's gone to, uh…get some...pompoms!" answered Jay said quickly as he stole another furtive glance at the women. Carmen followed his gaze.

"Jay."

"Yeah?"

"Those are men."

_"What?"_

Jay spit out his soda. He took a harder look, and sure enough, they were.

"You certainly can pick them, Jay." Carmen said with a smug smile. "Now where is he really?"

"He went to get something. He didn't tell me what. Do you...?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go on...that?" Jay asked as he reluctantly pointed to the carousel.

'Nigel is trying to distract me.' Carmen thought. 'I'll play along.'

"Oh yes. I do love a good carousel." She said happily with unexpected enthusiasm.

"Okay...?" Jay looked a little scared as he followed the tall woman through the surging crowd. He was forced to ride continuously until Nigel returned twenty minutes later.

"Where are the pompoms, Nigel?" Carmen asked coyly.

"What?"

"Never mind"

Jay came up behind them.

"I am going to bloody _kill_ you! Give me my money!"

"All right. All right. Here."

"Pizza anyone?" Carmen didn't like most pizza on account of excessive grease, but this particular place was to her liking.

"Fine with us."

The threesome walked down the plaza together, Nigel fingering the little velvet box that was burning hole in his pocket.

* * *

December 24, 1984: Acme lounge 9:12 PM

"Nigel, pay attention!" Beeped the chief in his ear.

"Sorry, I'm afraid my mind is elsewhere."

"Well get it back here, pronto! You almost stapled that crepe paper to my screen!"

"So sorry again, old chap."

The machine somehow sighed.

"And where is that brilliant girlfriend of yours?"

"Over here." called Carmen from behind the Mr. Coffee as she strained to plug in the last strand of Christmas lights.

"Carmen, I have to re-check some data files for the next few hours. If you two are done, you can leave-"

"Thank you chief! Have a Merry Christmas! Come on, Carmen-"

The chief startled.

"Hey, hey, hey! What's the rush?"

"No rush, I...just wanted to get out before rush hour started."

"Rush hour is almost over."

"I left my computer running."

"Shelly turned it off for you."

"The world is coming to an end and only I can stop it!"

"Welll...in that case...-"

"_Thank you_!"

"Merry Christmas to you too!"

Nigel dragged Carmen outside and rushed her into the car. Then he sped out of the parking lot and down the Russian hill as if it was the last night on Earth.

"Nigel! What in God's name are you doing?" Carmen screamed at him

"You said 'God'! How wonderful!"

"Nigel, what is going on?"

But Nigel didn't answer. Instead he parked the car in the lot by a familiar beach and pulled Carmen out of the car and onto the sand, giddy with excitement.

"Nigel?" Carmen asked, now getting nervous.

Once on the beach Nigel calmed down a notch, but now he was the one that was nervous. The black of the night blanketed them and the sand felt good between their toes. Above a crescent moon hung, surrounded by thousands of twinkling stars. The ocean roared on the distance and a cool, refreshing wind whipped through their hair, sending it flying. The reeds rustled and crickets chirped from all around. Across the way the lights on the distant shore reflected on the water.

They were all alone.

Peace settled in as Nigel and Carmen walked up to the waters edge and sat down in the sand. Nigel took out a blanket and wrapped the two together. He held Carmen tightly and Carmen returned his embrace, the two together in each other's arms, gazing upon the stars.

"Carmen?"

"Hmmm?" Carmen answered drowsily.

"Do you ever think of the future?"

"In terms of science, medicine, and flying cars?"

"No, your future...our future."

"Somewhat."

"What do you want in your future?"

"First off, I believe that I will be staying at Acme forever...or.."

"Or?"

"Follow my childhood dream and become a reporter."

"I never knew you wanted to be a reporter."

"No one ever asked."

"What else?"

Carmen sank into Nigel, this time voluntarily

"I guess I have the typical American dream... To own a house, have a garden of my own in the front, a few hundred cats...children,..-

"Children?"

"Why yes, Nigel, children!"

"I... never saw you as one who would want children, Carmen."

"Why not?" Carmen asked, a little hurt.

"It's just that you're so...so..-"

"Cold."

There was an awkward silence. Nothing could be heard except the waves rushing ashore in the darkness. A tear slid down Carmen's cheek.

"It's true, isn't it, Nigel? I'm...so cold."

"Not true! Remember the time when you...or when..-"

"I've never even kissed you the way other couples kiss. A hug or a quick peck on the cheek, or the lips at most is all I've ever let you have."

"Oh. well I never went in for all of that mushy-"

"Oh really, Nigel? Now that I think of it, you've tried quite a few times to kiss me. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well...fine!"

Another pause

"Why don't you like to be touched, Carmen?" Nigel asked softly.

"I..." Carmen stared off into the distance.

"What? Am I not trustworthy?"

"No! I mean… I only make myself believe that."

"Then what is the real reason?"

Carmen remained silent.

"Carmen?"

Carmen mumbled something almost inaudible.

"What?"

She faced him, the tears coming now.

"I'm...not worth...it."

Nigel was taken back.

"What? I... I don't understand!"

"Nigel, all my life I've never been wanted, never loved, never cared for. Always having to _demand_ respect. Always having to _fight_ and _kill_! I was thrown away, Nigel! My mother...she, didn't want me. No one took me in. No one wanted me...no one does. Children, I said? I'm a fool. Who would even think to marry a frozen woman like me?"

"Carmen,-"

"_Well?"_

Nigel felt terrible, but at the same time thanked God that He had dropped in his lap.

"Carmen!"

"What?" She asked, out of breath already burning with embarrassment.

He took her in his arms and kissed her cheek. "What about…well...me?"

Carmen looked up, startled.

"Oh Nigel, you don't have to say such things out of pity."

"Would I buy this out of pity?"

He pulled out the little box that had been burning on his dresser for the past few weeks. He picked her up and set her upon one of the nearby rocks, then knelt down before her.

"Carmen, would you...marry me?"

And in that one moment of her life, Carmen was complete.

"Yes."

'There is a place for me at last', she thought tearfully as Nigel held her ever closer. 'At last there is love.'

It was all here now, to have a home, raise a family, grow old...

The night drifted on that Christmas Eve. Distant carols, the steady warm glow from the houses across the way, families together around a tree; it would soon be theirs. No more drifting alone on a cold, endless sea. Her ship had come in to whisk her away to a promised land, so far from here, together enthralled with the thought of the American dream.


	4. Chapter 4 Storm of Angels

Hey all! I almost lost this chapter to the sands of time. The file I had on backup was incomplete. Nine years ago I put this, and a few other fanfics at the end of a book I wrote. Those files were also lost, but before they were, I made a PDF of it and put it online. THAT file was deleted online, but was backed up on a cd, one of about twenty that I kept in a sandwich bag during my homeless years. It is from THAT cd that I found the PDF from which I extracted the text for this.

Good thing, too, because I doubt I would have been able to write it again.

* * *

Mortal Athena

Chpt. 4. The Storm of Angels

* * *

June 1, 1985; Washington D.C.

In a smoke filled room far below the activity of the living sat three men dressed in black, their identities unknown, faces cloaked in shadow, deciding the fates of those they controlled.

"She'll never agree to it."

"We're not going to ask her."

"So she is expendable?"

"It's for a greater good."

"Decided by who?"

"Her country."

* * *

June 13, 1985; San Francisco

"Ach! I can't take it anymore!" Carmen exclaimed.

"What's wrong? Nothing in there you like?" Nigel replied. They had been leafing through the bridal gown catalogue for nearly an hour now.

"Me? It's just.. I just can't picture myself in such dresses."

"Excited?"

"No. It's that I don't especially like wearing frilly things."

"Not even on your wedding, Carmen?" Asked the chief over her shoulder.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to."

"Oh Carmen, you have to pick something. July 15th is only a month from now!"

"Hush! Both of you!"

The room lapsed back into silence, broken only by the sound of pages turning and the dissatisfied sighs of Carmen. She had changed a lot in the past few months. She was more cheerful now, made more jokes, and even laughed. The stern, cold Carmen had melted away with the prospect of her new life. Liberated woman that she was, in the back of her mind, Carmen yearned for the fifties mentality, to settle and start a family. Normalcy. Stability.

Not that life would become dull. Carmen was already planning to teach her children to fly the family helicopter. It was that now she had a real family. Aside from the fact that she and Jay didn't really get along, Nigel's parents adored her, and now she would have a real last name.

She had running all her life to catch the train of dreams, running alongside it as long as she could remember, reaching but never grabbing on. The constant running had worn down her soul, the tripping and falling, the scrapes and burns she had endured to keep up, not ever wanting the train to slip from her sight. She couldn't give up. It was now so close, for she had been gaining on it since Christmas Eve. Now so exhausted, she was as a marathon runner who could at long last see the finish line, giving all the last of her energy, one last burst of speed. July 15th she could grab on and let the train whisk her away to a new life. She would lie exhausted on the floor, her fight against fate over, and sleep for the first time. It would be the best sleep she ever had.

Carmen couldn't get this happy thought out of her head. 'Things don't get better than this.'

Suddenly a phone call broke the silence. Eager for something else to do, Nigel hopped up and answered it.

"It's for you, Carmen."

Carmen got up from the pea-green couch and walked over to the phone on the wall beside the row of newly updated computers. Only a few knew how to work them, Carmen being one of them. They provided her much enjoyment.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Armani?"

The man spoke with rough, monotonous voice, speaking slowly and pausing for the effect. Carmen didn't like those who veiled themselves in secrecy. She liked to know everything.

"Who is this?"

"Captain Walker of the FBI. I have called to make you aware that serial killer Valentino Mar has been arrested."

"He has? That's wonderful!"

"Yes, we thought it fair to tell you first, seeing as he had the tendency to single you out. All we need you to do now is do inventory on the bust in Hong Kong. Do you accept?"

"Yes. Good day."

"Good day...Ms. Armani."

*click*

Carmen hung the phone, drinking in the goodness of knowing this one thing. Nothing else mattered for the moment. Even more so, it helped to verify a happier new life with Nigel. Carmen tossed the great weight off her shoulders and walked back to the couch with a smile.

"What was that?" asked the chief

"Mar's arrested."

"What! Oh happy day! But..ah..why did they call just you?"

"Because I have to do inventory work tomorrow in Hong Kong. Evidentially Mar had a drug bust and I have to weigh the evidence."

"You know, Carmen", Nigel cut in, "Seeing as Suhara's sick, perhaps I might come along?"

"As my partner?"

"That was the general idea, yes."

"But you don't understand field work. You only do forgeries and embezzlement. Paper work."

"Oh Carmen! It's a low security assignment. He can go." Replied the chief

"Oh goody! I get to go on a trip! Wheeee!" Exclaimed Nigel with mock enthusiasm and jumped up from the couch. "And a plane!"

He pranced out of the room.

"You're rubbing off on him." Carmen said to the chief.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I guess I could live with it."

"Why thank you, Carmen."

"You're welcome."

Carmen sighed and walked out of the room, leaving the chief to his thoughts.

"They're just perfect together." He said to the empty room, then resumed his work.

* * *

June 14, 1985; San Francisco Airport.

"If you don't mind, Carmen, might I take the window seat?" Nigel asked.

"Why?" Asked Carmen, who really preferred the window seat for herself.

"Well you see, I get air-sick and I might just..er..um" Nigel stammered

"There is no polite way to say "throw-up", Nigel"

"Well, that was the word I was looking for, and if you don't want on you, you might consider surrendering your throne for one trip."

"What happens if we have an aisle seat?" Carmen asked, a little amused.

"I'll ask them to switch seats."

"If they can't?"

"Then I'll..ah..oh I don't know!"

Carmen chuckled to herself.

"Well you bloody well won't think it's funny when I..ah.."throw-up" on you!"

"Oh Nigel, you'll be fine."

The two got on the plane, Nigel receiving the window seat, Carmen beside him. As the plane began to take off, Carmen could feel him squeezing her hand for dear life.

'My, what a detective you would make.' She thought with a smirk. 'I guess if I'm getting a family helicopter, it's going to be with my own money.'

She leaned back and pushed her hat forward, a habit she had picked up from watching Indian Jones, and fell asleep.

* * *

June 14 1985, Hong Kong.

"Come on, Nigel! You need to travel light! And they say women are bad."

Nigel was lugging a huge suitcase behind him down the brightly lit corridors of the airport; Carmen wearing only a knapsack. The two made way to their rental car and stopped in the hotel for a quick brush up, then got back in the car and started for the address she had written down the day before.

Nigel looked happily out the window of the car, glad to be out of San Francisco and somewhere new.

'Ah Carmen! My love, we've had our differences, but none of that matters now. The children and the cats wandering around our big house on Nob Hill, why, I've already a down payment on it! Things will be so wonderful.'

Nigel sighed. 'I'm so glad she loves me.'

They pulled up to the loading dock 64 at precisely 11:30. Carmen always liked to be on time. They exited and walked towards it, Carmen a few steps ahead as usual, for her legs were longer and she walked with speed anyway. Nigel jogged a little to keep up. The warehouse yard was unusually quiet, for Hong Kong, but Carmen noted it and passed it off.

Nigel was getting excited now, for he was chattering away about his favorite composer. His pace quickened and overtook Carmen as she headed for the door.

"So as I was saying, they're going to hold a concert in Sydney Opera house and-"

Carmen saw a glint in the door but it was too late.

"_Nigel!"_

The shot rang out across the world, over the past and future, and other dimensions beyond them. Carmen watched in dream-like horror as Nigel crumpled to the ground at her feet.

The seconds blurred together. Carmen, gun still clenched in her hand, looked up to see the face of... Valentino Mar.

Her mind spun.

'How can this be? How can this be? He's in prison, isn't he? _Isn't he_?'

Mar aimed his gun at her but found himself forgotten as Carmen knelt over Nigel in despair. He had been aiming for her to begin with. She always walked in front. No matter. He would finish this now.

'So strange that you just walked in, though,' He thought as he pressed the nozzle of his gun to the back of Carmen's head. 'You're usually not this sloppy.'

Carmen felt the cold ring on the back of her neck but didn't move.

'What does it matter if he shoots me? End it.'

A mass of armed agents suddenly swarmed in and secured the man in a matter of seconds while Carmen watched in horror as the nightmare compounded upon itself.

"How did you know I would be here?" He screamed at them in Italian. "Who told you? Who told you?"

Reason slowly bubbled to the surface, hot and think as lava.

'It was a setup! _It was all a goddamned setup!_ They had never arrested Mar! _It was all a goddamned setup!'_

Carmen looked tearfully at Nigel, dead in her arms, a smile still on his face. She heard people talking above her, one telling her it was for the greater good. The room was spinning too fast, her soul broken on the floor.

'I was the bait. They _used_ me as _bait_ to get him out of hiding. And _I believed them!_ _Oh god,_ _I believed them!'_

Anger and searing pain consumed her as she pulled herself up. A man in a dark suit was leading her towards a black car. Something cried with all her being, '_no!' _that the car was the end, that she must run, that she knew too much. Carmen broke away from them, the pain, the blaring sirens and the blood on the floor.

And ran.

The rain started, coming down hard and soaking her, but she didn't care. She could feel them pursuing her as she ran blindly down the dirt back roads. Running for her life from those she had invested her life to. At last she ducked into a shack and curled herself into a little ball, a quivering mass, and cried as she had never done before. The train of dreams had left her dying beside the track, escaping her sight into the tunnel of despair.

Carmen felt the world fall away and she fell unconscious.

* * *

June 14, 1985, San Francisco

"Hello?"

"Is this the chief of Acme?"

The voice was cold and hard, as opposed to that of the chief's cheery chatter.

"Why yes it is! Can I help you?"

"This is the FBI. I am to inform you that special agent Nigel Orson Reeves has been relocated for a top-secret sting operation effective immediately."

"Oh. Do you think he'll be back in time for Carmen's wedding?"

"I can't say. As for agent Armani, a small squabble in the warehouse she was investigating has left a hired hand dead. He was shot in the face and in unrecognizable. We need her back investigate the murder."

"She's not there anymore?"

"She seems to have run out on us at the moment. We believe she is returning to ACME. Please make our wishes known to her."

"Ah si! Comprende mas!"

"Excuse me?"

"Uh...yes I will."

"Thank you for your time. Carmen has been of... excellent service to us."

"I'll tell her that!"

"Good day"

"Bye!"

* * *

June 14, 1985; airplane to San Francisco

Carmen stared out the window. There had once been someone sitting here beside her, but now no longer. The ocean looked vast and dismal below her, the sky, grey. The plane had taken off five hours ago, and looking back Carmen could barely remember anything that happened.

She remembered waking up two hours later and shedding herself of the blood stained trench coat.

'His blood.'

She had blindly made her way to the airport and somehow managed to book this flight home without being discovered. Perhaps they had planned it that way. She didn't know. All her thoughts had spun out into nothingness. Only now were they becoming comprehensible.

She tried to organize them in her head.

'Nigel is dead. The government betrayed me. They told me Mar was arrested when he wasn't. Why? So that an unsuspecting me would lure him out of hiding. Why not tell me? Because I wouldn't do it. Do I hate Mar more now? Strangely enough I don't. He too was just a pawn in this. He didn't hate Nigel. He didn't know Nigel. Nigel… The irony of it hurts so bad. You tried so hard not to be the pawn but died as one. You tried to warn me but I never listened.

'Now you're dead.

'If I hadn't frozen I could have killed Mar first. I had the time. I shouldn't have let you come. I shouldn't have let you walk in front. I should have left you at the hotel. Shoulda coulda woulda... Damn you, Carmen.

'What do I do now? Did Acme help plan this? No. How do you kn- _no_, I can't... Acme will fix it. I have to hold onto something…'

The plane began to land and Carmen was forced out of her trance. She walked down the terminal alone. She waved down a cab and dozed as it floated down Polk St. It stopped in a dream. Carmen paid the man and walked up the worn marble steps. She entered, feeling so many emotions and yet none.

The chief greeted her inside.

"Hey Carmen!"

"I just want to die."

"Oh, losing Nigel can't be that bad."

Carmen stared at him, stunned. The room began to tilt.

"What…? How can you...how can you _say _that?"

"Hey, hey calm down, Carmen. The man on the phone told me what happened. That's just life, you know? It will be okay."

Carmen staggered backwards.

'How do you know this? How do you know? He couldn't have...'

"Take that back." She whispered, her voice now dark and deadly.

"For heaven's sake Carmen, it's not the end of the world!"

'No, no, no! He couldn't have! Why are you doing this?'

Carmen wanted to scream at him but was beyond words.

"Oh, Carmen? You have to go back to Hong Kong and investigate the murder."

She nearly collapsed.

"Carmen?"

"No"

"What?"

"I said 'no'."

"Knock it off, Carmen! I said go and that's and order!"

The room was silent.

"All right then. I'll go." Carmen answered calmly, and quietly left the room as she let herself slip into the abyss.

"Geez. She's so temperamental sometimes."

Carmen walked into her room as the chill of death set in. Acme had been a part of this all along. How could he? How could he be so nonchalant? Carmen hit her pillow with force but felt nothing. She was beyond feeling anything now.

'Oh I'm going, all right,' Carmen thought. Into a large suitcase she placed her favorite things. Her violin, her rag doll from the orphanage, her favorite books, and Nigel's rosary beads. She put the beads in quickly, hardly able to touch them. She threw in some other necessities and clothing, then looked around the room.

"I am the living dead." Carmen said to her mirror.

Then left.

"I'll see you in a while, Carmen. Cheer up!" The chief called to her as she walked through the master room. The heavy suitcase should have been a warning flag to him but he took no notice.

"Perhaps." Carmen replied coldly, and walked out of ACME for very last time. The 57'

Buick was where she had left it, parked in the underground driveway. She went to the bank and closed out her account, then left San Francisco for the unknown. The desert highways invited and she had to follow. There was nothing left for her in this storm of angels.


	5. Chapter 5 Reincarnation

Mortal Athena

Chpt. 5. The Reincarnation

* * *

Blue Moon Motel, Route 66, 26 miles out of San Diego.

June 15, 1985. 8:36 AM.

The sunlight crept across the dirty floor, slowly making its way up the side of the bed. It rolled over the rumpled sheets until it found a toe. The light engulfed a foot, two feet, legs, hands, slowly swallowing up the weary form. At last the sun touched her face, and gave her life.

Carmen's eyes flickered open. Questions began to float to and fro across her hazy horizon.

'What?... Where..ohhhh.'

A violent wave of dizziness swept over her. Her mind went blank for a moment, then she tried once again in vain to have a coherent thought. After a few minutes of trying to remember what her name was, she slipped back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

June 15, 1985. 9:16 AM.

A noisy tenant banged his way down the hall. He was carrying oversize luggage and was not having an easy time maneuvering down the narrow hallway. One ill-planned turn and the heavy suitcase slammed up against Carmen's door.

Carmen sat upright up like a bolt.

Her head cleared of the ringing in her ears in time to hear a string of obscenities outside her door. They grew fainter and fainter as the man walked down the hall, and then all was quiet. She was alone once more.

She lay back on her pillow. She ran her eyes over the new scenery, barely acknowledging a thing until her eyes came to rest on the small empty bottle of pills in her hand.

Everything suddenly came back in a rush.

Carmen weakly let it fall from her fingertips.

'Oh wise Buddha...oh God...what have I done?...what have I become?'

She attempted to get up, fell backwards, then succeeded in getting over to the bathroom. After vomiting and attempting to make herself somewhat presentable, she lurched out of the bathroom and propped herself up beside the window.

'What have I done?...oh Carmen, there's no one here, there is no one anywhere. You're insane enough to end it the coward's way, so you might as well speak out loud to yourself. I can't hear you over this ringing.'

She gently pushed the dingy curtain aside and peered out into the dusty parking lot, the highway, and the endless desert beyond.

The endless, empty desert.

Carmen addressed it.

"Well?"

She waited for a reply though she knew there would be none.

"Now what? Now what? I...oh Buddha. I tried to kill myself. Am I really so far beyond hope? Is it over now? I! I, proud agent, how could I do such a disgraceful thing? Suicide!"

Carmen stared out the window even longer.

"Suicide."

She leaned her head up against the window.

"No. I will never let anyone know this for however long I am destined to live, but there was no shame to what I tried to do. All those high and mighty Christian activists that Nigel knew, who made me feel so very insecure and small, they say people shouldn't play God. Well who's playing God now? Well? My country! My country decides! I remember the chant. Oh I remember it well. 'You will fight for America. America loves you. You will die for America. America loves you.' America!"

Carmen could feel hot tears once again.

"America! America _chose_ me, chose _me_ to die...chose for _all_ of them to die...without funerals...without memories...without _honor_!"

She was trembling out of control. Carmen leaned herself next to the old arm chair beside her, but kept her gaze fixed on the broken street below and the desert beyond.

"Now what? Now what? Do I return? To America? To Nigel? Nigel's dead now, he's gone now, there is no Nigel anymore. There is no home for me now. There is no country for me."

Carmen paused as a horrifying memory flashed into her head. She was back in Hong Kong, there was blood, there were government agents, so many, pushing her towards the black car. Don't go in the black car!

Carmen gasped and collapsed to the floor.

They were looking for her.

"Oh God, oh Buddha, oh Divine Buddha! I've got to get out of this country! I...no! They'll find me! They'll use the system,...my passport...my credit cards...they'll find me. I should know. I was once one of them. So long as I exist, they can find me. They will find me"

Carmen paused.

"Unless... Unless I was on the other side."

She stood there for a long time, looking out the window. Was it moral? Was it ethical? Did she care anymore if it was? The church was corrupt, the government was corrupt, even her Buddhist monasteries were corrupt. What was good now? Who amongst mortal man could decide who was to be damned and who was to be saved? Even those, those great, those intelligent, the grandest of the Athena's like herself, seemingly undefeatable, they too were mortal, subject to the will of karma.

With all her wisdom, all her methodical planning, the barer of justice had not received justice herself. So who was to say she was worse for honest crimes than the wonderfully corrupt and immoral gods of Capital Hill? No one. The young hopeful fool is dead with Nigel, lying beside him in his grave, and so was her idealistic set of morals. If being a criminal was the way of the refugees and outcasts of ideal society, then that was her destiny.

"I died last night. I have been reincarnated. This is my second life."

And with that justified in her moral heart, Carmen Sandiego became a criminal.

Another wave of nausea passed over her.

"But first, I really should go to a hospital."


	6. Chapter 6 Life as she made it

Mortal Athena

Chpt. 6. Life as she made it.

* * *

June 17, 1985

Route 66, Somewhere in Arizona

10:31 am.

But she never did go to a hospital.

Carmen passed out on the floor instead.

When she came to, she realized that going to a hospital was about the worst thing she could possibly do. The government could use hospital records and find her. Send in a fake nurse with a few more cc's of anesthesia then the human body could take and it would be over without a fight. Carmen wasn't paranoid. No, she just knew the wonderful, mysterious ways of her former employers.

Carmen paid for another night and did little else the next day besides sleep.

She was on a new mission, though not one she really wanted to think about. She hastily buried the remains of her heart in the back of her mind. It was the only way she knew how to cope and she was running against time.

Carmen spoke to the wind, on the road once again.

"Now how in the world do I start a band of...wait, what am I going to be doing? Counterfeit? No, that's not something one can do professionally. This is no one-shot deal. I'll be doing this for the rest of my life, however long that may be. Crime lord? Serial killer? I might as well go the whole nine yards..."

Carmen pondered this for a moment and then shook her head.

"Wait, what am I saying? I may be a criminal, but this is, well... this is still _me_ we're talking about."

She paused.

"Who's 'we'?"

Carmen decided not to take her mindless ramblings seriously. Not only was she talking aloud to herself, she was talking aloud to herself_ illogically_.

'I'm going to need some help with this, but who can I trust?'

She had just the person.

* * *

Stockholm, Sweden

January 11, 1983

8:49 p.m.

The police wagon rattled its way down the icy road. Once again it was snowing out, but Detective Sandiego could care less about the whims of nature. She had gotten her man of the day and with her mission completed she could focus on the next. Carmen paused to wonder why snowy nights made her start thinking in Russian, than continued to plan for the next case and the paperwork she would have to fill out.

Across from her sat her captive, a thin, lanky man with orange-red hair and a scar running down his right cheek. He was dressed in a battered trench coat and a dark brown felt hat with a feather in the brim, old trousers held up by brown suspenders over a dirty faded pink and yellow striped shirt. Everything was rumpled and dirty, yet he smelled of Old Spice.

He had a hippie-beatnik feel about him, that even though he had been caught, he wasn't really going to let it bother him. He slouched up against the corner of the police van and sighed. Then he set his attention on the dignified figure in the maroon trench coat across from him.

Carmen was dimly aware that her prisoner had taken to staring at her but continued to read her novel.

She would find this to be no easy task.

"Yo!"

Carmen continued to ignore him.

The man put on his best smile tried again. "Canna have a cigarette?"

Silence.

"Com'mon. I'm at _least_ worth a cigarette!"

Carmen gave him a look to freeze hell but Scar Graynolt was not going to give up that easily. He decided to drop his dumb act.

"Sandiego, is it? I've heard of you. It's a shame, really."

Carmen decided that as there was a two-hour trip ahead of her, maybe if she talked to him for a little while he'd leave her alone.

"What is a shame?" She asked dryly, not looking up from her book.

"You're wasting your time in this dead-end job. It's so sad. You're a _stooge,_ my God! With all that intelligence, and all the power to unravel puzzles…I bet you would make a great thief."

Carmen shot him a look.

"I would never lower myself to working against society and making life miserable for others." She said with the annoyance of someone who had said the same reply over and over and was tired of repeating.

Scar knew better. He knew she was tired of repeating it to herself. Not outright, but he had a feeling and he was going to act on it.

"Work against society? Make people miserable? Only if you want to. The real kingpins of the underworld are really quite agreeable people, when you give them what they want. But that's beside the point. What's so great about being a detective?"

"To help others and-"

"Nah, I mean, what do _you_ get out of it? Don't give me that, 'for the good of the people' crap. What does this job really give you?"

"I find it intellectually stimulating and it gives me a sense of accomplishment. I enjoy it. End of story."

"Sense of accomplishment, aye? They just go back on the street. Even you can't pretend that you don't see that. Let me tell you something, Sandiego. Don't be so quick to put down honest thievery. Your precious government steals all the time. At least we're upfront about what we do. Besides, we're not all lowlifes. Why, someone you know might be a thief."

Carmen tried to return to her book as Scar continued on, but found herself reading the same sentence over and over.

"As for intellectually stimulating? Here's the facts. Think, Sandiego, with your great logical mind. It is we, the thieves, that must be more intelligent. _We_ must know where to hide, when to move. _We_ create the great schemes! You only dissect them. Could you challenge the world and get away with it? "

Scar was enjoying himself. Carmen was not.

"And those stakeouts. That's why detectives are always shown with trench coats. Because they have to sit for hours in the rain, snow, wind, in little corners of alleyways, rooftops, beat-up cars, in the trenches, all on a hunch, on an anonymous tip! The thief could show up, or, per-chance, they may say, 'My, it looks cold out there. I think I'll go home and take a hot bath instead.' Meanwhile, you're still stuck there like a sap. And heaven forbid you leave. They'll give you hell for that, even if you're in danger of losing a toe."

Carmen stared at the wall in front of her and the man could see that he was getting under her skin.

"So, where are you going after this? Oh, I forgot, you don't have much choice, do you? Wherever the criminal goes, you must go. We go where we want. You simply follow. We are the masters of our own fates. I'm a petty thief. I steal watches and did some counterfeiting. Nothing worth remembering. Nothing worth caring about. Nobody will even notice I'm gone, but you, you could be a master. You know how to bargain and deal, how to plan and scheme."

Carmen was not even considering any of the points he laid out. She had decided to let the man rant and rave all he wanted, but the discussion was closed as far as she was concerned.

Scar could feel the finality in the air, but he had one more hour and he felt a sort of desperate need to tear this woman out of her storybook world, to make her see that she was not what she thought she was; a fighter for justice, but a pawn in a corrupt game beyond her control.

"I know you brought down some pretty high and mighty drug lords. So, Carmen, where are they now?"

Scar let it hang. He knew the answer. He knew she did too.

They were free.

All the evidence she collected had been thrown out, all her witnesses silenced through bribery, fear, or death, all her brilliant testimony smashed by the manipulations of equally criminal lawyers. Nothing stuck to them. They were invincible, and Carmen, no matter how good she was, she would never, never be enough.

She felt sick but rallied. The law would win and justice would be restored. The good guys always won in the end. It was the way of the world. Still, she wanted desperately for the man to silence. She didn't want to be poisoned by these false beliefs.

She wanted him stop.

Scar could read her distress through her mask but did not relent. 'I feel bad about this, really I do, but this is for your own good.'

"Where are they now?"

Carmen bitterly ignored him.

"The US government is locked in a race with the Commies to see who gets to blow up the planet first. What you're doing is the last thing they care about. Meanwhile the floodwaters are rising and you're going to drown if you stay where you are. This isn't Utopia! You're going to have to decide, Carmen. Blissful ignorance or intellectual freedom. One takes more work than the other, but one is worth more than the other. Liberate yourself, before it's too late! Climb higher, become a lord yourself. You can create your own empire of whatever you like. It need not be drugs, war, or suffering, but for God's sake, do something!"

Carmen was seemingly off in another world, which left Scar wondering, 'Why do I care? Why bother? It's all lost on her. Oh well, I tried, and that's more than I should have done for a cop. Sorry, kid. Didn't want to open your eyes...'

* * *

June 17, 1985

Route 66, Somewhere in Arizona

10:36 am.

'But I have now.'

Carmen never knew why that man had been so bent on teaching her reality. She was, after all, sending him to prison. He hadn't said a word after his speech but continued to regard her with pity. It had unnerved her at the time, but she soon forgot it and went on her blissfully ignorant way.

There was only one man could help her now.

She was off to see the Wizard of Oz.

* * *

June 17, 1985

Sing Sing Penitentiary, New York

2:15 pm.

"Right this way, Ms. Sandiego." Said a prison guard as Carmen was lead into the visiting room. Visiting rooms in the mid eighties were much different then. The wall dividing the good from the bad was roughly the same as that of a bank teller's, with a hole in the bottom so that a hand may be extended through it. They were far more personal, a godsend for Carmen, who was in desperate need of a tangible human being. She wondered if he would remember her.

He did.

"Alright, alright, who wants to see me? If it's that damn lawyer again, throw 'em in the cell next to me. He's more of a crook than I. He lost the case, he gets nothing. It's two years now! How long is it going to take- you?"

Carmen said nothing, hoping he could read the urgency in her eyes.

"Well, well, well. I haven't seen you in a while." Scar asked as he sat down heavily before her. "What, need me to rat on someone? I worked alone, you know. By the way, how's the government treating you? Still pretending to be Wonder woman?"

When she still didn't answer, he took a good look at her face, and after a long pause he spoke again in a low, quiet voice.

"What happened?"

Carmen found she couldn't look him in the eye. She turned to the side, fearful her impassive mask would slip away and presented her case in as dignified a way as she could.

"I need...some assistance. On a new campaign."

"What happened?"

Scar repeated the question with the same patience. He wanted this answered first.

"What do you mean?"

"What happened?"

Carmen went quiet as she struggled over whether to tell this convict, this _criminal_, of her collapse.

'But I have to tell someone. Besides, I doubt I'll live long enough for it to make a difference either way.'

"I know too much."

"Go on."

Carmen gave in.

"Damn it, you win? Are you happy, Graynolt? It was just as you said it would be. They tried to sacrifice my life _'for the greater good'_ and may well still succeed if I don't get out of this country. What is there left for me to do now? This is a crooked world and I was brought up in a fairyland of ethics and morals. Good can't win here."

"So you _were_ listening?"

"You're getting a sick kick out of this, aren't you?"

"No."

"And why not? This should be one big, beautiful vindication for you. _I'm_ the one who put you here. Now I have no country, no family, no beliefs, nothing. The mortifying irony of it all..."

"I don't have a country either, Carmen." he replied quietly and sighed. "Do you think I made all that stuff up just to scare you? I was once an intelligence clerk for the KGB, but I decided I wanted to trade sides. I came to your great country, America, to aid _your_ side in the Cold War. I gave loyal service for seven years, Carmen! I helped protect your nation's evils from those of a nation equally as bad. I didn't believe in the arms race, but I had been sold on, brain-washed into the Greater Good. Remember the chant? You know the chant."

"Yes. It's made itself quite known in my mind as of late."

"Well I nearly did die for America when I left the KGB, and so you what happened to me? McCarthyism happened to me. Round up those Commie bastards! Throw them in cages, interrogate them to death, purge America! Well they didn't get me. I escaped through a window when I overheard my supervisor 'making preparations for Mr. Tyrovski'. I had been with them for seven years."

He seemed to withdraw as his memories returned.

"So I ran back to my native Sweden, but I'm just a ghost there. The US and the USSR are looking for Tyrovski, but according to forged documents he died in a plane accident. Fake passport, fake ID, fake existence. I went underground just to survive…'

His focus returned to her.

"But someone like you, you could actually _get_ somewhere. I tried to spare you this. I don't know... I suppose you reminded me of me when I was young and stupid."

Carmen let it settle in her mind. The world felt slightly less heavy now. She put her hands together in front of her as her demeanor shifted into something new.

"So you say I would do well in the underground. Do go on."

"Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"Show me the ropes and I'll make myself at home. I'm in need of a new one."

"If you were a kingpin..."

"Graynolt!"

"Yea, Boss?"

And so it was decided.

Carmen went out for a quick cup of coffee, then returned to smooth out some small wrinkles, such as getting Graynolt on the other side of the bullet-proof glass.

"You could," he paused to cough obviously "_persuade_ the guard in some way."

Graynolt made an hour-glass figure with his hands.

"No."

"Or the...ah...other way."

He rubbed his thumbs together.

"Ach. As I do recall, you are up for parole in a month."

"Oh. That could work, but what fun is that?"

Carmen sighed. "I hate to wait, but a month will give me time plan and secure funds."

"Going to knock off a bank?"

Carmen thought for a moment. 'That would be the criminal thing to do.'

But then she realized that she didn't want to be 'just a criminal'. She wanted to be something more stylish than that, more sophisticated than that.

"No. I have a bit tucked away."

"Where? In the Criminal Retirement Fund? If mind serves _me_, you worked for ACME. What money?"

"I run the gambit in Wall Street fairly well. My money is where the government can't touch it. I'll just nick off a few shares."

"You can get decent starter money out of a 'few shares'?"

"I can do anything I want."

Graynolt smiled. She already had the attitude right.

'Maybe she'll make it after all. I wonder, what _did_ happen to her?'

It occurred to Graynolt that while he had told her too much about his past, she had told him everything and yet nothing at all about hers.

'Crafty old fox.' He thought with growing admiration.

"I'll leave it to you, boss. See you on the other side."


End file.
